


Do You Want to Build a Snowman, Tuney?

by IDunnoWhatToSayHereLoves



Category: Frozen - Fandom, Harry Potter - Fandom, marauders - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IDunnoWhatToSayHereLoves/pseuds/IDunnoWhatToSayHereLoves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petunia and Lily are a little like Elsa and Anna, only this time it's the little sister with the magic powers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Want to Build a Snowman, Tuney?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I have this compulsion to be as near to canon as possible (or moderately popular head-canons) If you read something that doesn't quite match up or that you think might be a little off, please let me know. Sometimes this era is too foggy to be certain of what is right or wrong, but I would love to be as close to canon as possible.
> 
> This is also the first fic that I've published, so I'm slightly nervous. I think it's alright though.  
> Comments are much appreciated.

August 31, 1971

It was raining over the sleepy riverside English town, which played host to the small yellow house that the Evans family called home. The rain had begun early in the day before anyone had woken and had continued all morning, leaving the town sitting in a soup of mud and slush, the sky smeared a most unhappy grey, and a red headed little girl with a most unpleasant frown upon her face.  
“Not fair,” the child grumbled. She sat on a stool she had pulled up to the window in the front room of the Evans family’s house and was glaring up at the grey sky.  
“What’s that, Lily?” Mrs. Evans called from the desk in the kitchen where she was sat with glasses perched on the end of her thin nose, reading over a stack of papers. Lily had earlier regarded these papers as being bills, as she did all grown up papers.  
“Oh, mum” Lily sighed, exasperated, “it’s the rain.” She hopped down from her stool and rushed into the kitchen to be closer to her mother. Young Lily Evans when she ran was quite the sight. Her face could hardly be seen under her red hair, as she shook her head when she ran to bring even more attention to her fiery top, her socks threatened to fall even further below her knees than they already sat, and she had a habit of picking at the hole in the hem of her yellow dress when she ran, unsure of where else to place her hands. Lily suffered this particular habit as a side effect of a recent growth spurt she had undergone. Her mother named it an “eleven year old’s curse” laughing that Lily now had more limbs than she knew what to do with.  
“It’s the last day of summer!” Lily proclaimed, now at her mother’s side, “and it’s raining! All I wanted to do was play in the garden, and I can’t now.”  
“Now, Lily,” said Mrs. Evans firmly, “there’s no need to whine over such things as the weather. You’ve played outside nearly every day this summer, and usually off with that Snape boy, mind. Now you can stay in with your family for at least one day before you go off. In fact, it does you well to be stuck up in here for the day; you can finish up your packing.”  
“Oh, but mum, why rain?”  
“Lily, I can’t change the weather. I can only tell you the benefits. Now run along and finish packing up your things, tea will be soon.”  
Lily sighed audibly and Mrs. Evans turned to look at her at last. The woman removed her glasses and took her daughter’s arms in her hands. She smiled warmly at Lily and Lily looked into her mother’s bright green eyes, developing the feeling that she was looking into a mirror at her own irises.  
“Oh, love, you’ve got a big day ahead tomorrow, so you might as well be as prepared as possible, yes?”  
“I suppose so,” Lily admitted with a sigh.  
“You see?” Mrs. Evans beamed, “now run along.”  
She released Lily and the young girl turned from the room, headed toward the stairs that led to her bedroom. Mrs. Evans smiled to herself as she put her glasses back on and turned back to her papers, mumbling to herself of witches, wizards, Hogwarts, and other such nonsense.  
Up the stairs Lily found herself faced with a short and quite narrow hall. On either pale pink papered wall was a door, each leading to a little girl’s bedroom. Lily cast a look toward the open door of her own bedroom, she could see her half-packed trunk sitting open on her floor, and then she turned toward the other door. Lily knocked three times on the closed door and receiving no reply shouted out, “Tuney?”  
Still receiving no response Lily continued, “Petunia, do you want to build a snowman? Come on let’s go and play! I never see you anymore, open up the door. It’s like you’ve gone away.” Lily waited and heard nothing in reply, unperturbed she pressed on.  
“We used to be best buddies, but now we’re not. I really wish you would tell me why. Do you want to build a snowman?”  
Still silence. Lily considered the idea that maybe the snowman building was what was keeping her sister quiet. Though Lily herself was enthralled by her ability to produce snow, Petunia was a lot less fond of it.  
“It doesn’t have to be a snowman.” Lily called out.  
On the other side of the door, Petunia Evans sat in the middle of her bed. She stared across the neat and tidied bedroom, smoothing her grey skirt over and over as she listened to her little sister’s pleas from the other side of the door. Petunia lowered her head and shook it slowly, feeling her dark plait shift on her neck as she did. “Go away, Lily.” She said softly. Petunia sighed in relief when she heard Lily return her words with a soft “Okay, bye.” And pad across the hall to her bedroom. Despite Petunia’s relief that her sister had gone, she felt tears welling in her eyes. She loved Lily, she really loved her little sister; but Petunia had seen the things Lily could do and she knew that there was nothing right about it. In truth, she was scared of Lily, scared of the things she could do. She wanted so badly to open the door up and run through the house with the young girl every time that Lily asked, but she just couldn’t anymore. No matter, though, tomorrow Lily would be going away to her school for…for…for other people like her, and then Petunia wouldn’t have to face her little sister any longer. Tomorrow Petunia would be free.

 

Christmas Eve 1974

Lily Evans was lying on her bed, obscured by darkness. Her teeth had been brushed, her face washed, and she was in her nightgown, but there was not a chance that she would be sleeping. The past three and a half-years that Lily had been attending Hogwarts had shown her wonders that she could not have possibly dreamt up even in her most imaginative day dreams. She had learned how to turn water to wine with a flick of her wrist, had encountered creatures such as unicorns and hippogriffs, she was even being educated by a woman who could take the form of a cat at will. Yet Lily still found Christmas at home to be the most magical thing in her life. Every year she looked forward to the taste of her mother’s cooking, the brightly coloured tree that was always upright in the front room when she arrived home, and the fairy lights twinkling from the edge of the roof. They illuminated Lily’s window now, and she gazed at the glow outside, blurred slightly by the glass. Sighing with awe over the beauty of it all-Christmas and fairy lights-Lily drew herself up from her bed and wandered over to the window. Sinking down onto the windowsill, Lily smiled to herself, thinking of how her peers back at Hogwarts would respond her romanticizing of muggle Christmases. Her smile turned into a muffled giggle when she remembered Sirius Black’s bewildered state when she had brought the record player that she’d received last Christmas down to the common room. Her intent had been to show Alice Prewit her favourite Beatles record but Black who had been sitting nearby with James Potter had wandered over to the girls, sneering with disdain at the muggle device. Of course, by the time the first song had finished he had fallen in love with the band, which Lily held so dear. He had since begged her, a total of 298 times to play the record for him again. Lily, however, had made a vow to herself to avoid Black and Potter as much as possible since she met them for the first time on the Hogwarts express in her very first year there. Something wet and sloppy slammed into the window between Lily’s eyes; she jolted upright, stumbling away from the window. She blinked a few times before realising it had only been an overly large, wet snowflake. Wait-snow? Lily’s heart fluttered and without missing a beat she turned on the spot and ran from her room to the closed door across the hall. Without a single thought of how she hadn’t spoken to her sister since summer holidays, or how Petunia hadn’t had a desire to play with Lily in several years, or how Petunia had avoided even being in the same room with Lily since she had come home-save for meals-Lily rapped three times on her sister’s bedroom door.  
“Do you want to build a snowman?” she chanted, “Or ride our bikes down the drive? I think some company is overdue, I might start talking to the paintings on the walls.”  
Lily clasped her hands, grinning at the door expectantly. Ten seconds passed in complete silence, then twenty, and thirty. When forty seconds of silence had passed Lily sighed and lowered her head.  
“Guess that she’s sleeping,” she mumbled to herself and shuffled back to her own room. Lily felt tears threatening to escape her wide, green eyes as she threw herself down onto her bed.  
“It gets a little lonely,” she said softly to herself, “all these empty rooms, just watching the hours tick by. I really just want to build a snowman.”  
With that the young girl rolled onto her side, drawing herself in, and drifted to sleep  
Across the hall Petunia Evans lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, clutching the sheets on either side of her between her whitened fists.

 

February 3, 1977

“M-miss Evans?” Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus all looked up at the trembling first year in unison. The poor girl’s eyes widened when all four seventh years noticed her presence.  
“Yes?” said Lily, smiling at the girl kindly.  
“P-professor McGonagall would like to see you in her office.”  
Lily frowned, furrowing her brow. “Thank you.” She said. The first year took this as her cue to leave and after nodding in Lily’s direction she hurried off. Lily glanced around at her friends, all of whom where staring at her intently. Sirius was sitting on the floor with Lily’s record collection before him, halfway through the pile. James, who was seated on the couch above Sirius, next to Lily had paused his ridiculing of Sirius’ fixation with muggle music to look questioningly at his girlfriend. Remus who was also on the floor, across from Sirius was peering at Lily over his potions essay, his green eyes flecked with concern. Lily smiled brightly at them and, shaking James’ arm off of her, climbed to her feet.  
“She probably wants me supervise a detention or something.” The redhead shrugged, “Anyway, I’ll be back in a few moments.”  
The boys shrugged, and nodded and then turned back to their respective activities. Lily turned from them and headed for the portrait hole, her smile fading back into a frown, wondering what McGonagall could possibly be calling her for at this hour.  
Over the years Lily had grown into a very respectable looking young woman. Her long, red hair, which used to frizz under the threat of humidity, or hang down her back in a plait, had been replenished. It now framed her face shining against the pale hue of her complexion, and she had perfected the charm that made it seem as though it levitated like a halo, and didn’t just simply hang off of her head. Her height of five feet and nine inches and her long limbs had previously made her appear gangly and awkwardly tall. Now those limbs, as well as her torso had been firmed with muscle, but also softened by the feminine curves she had inherited. She held herself with purpose, using her height to her advantage. There was wisdom now in her green eyes, and there was strength in her firmly set pink lips. Lily Evans walked with an elegant swagger, the kind that belonged to those who knew they were important. And here, at Hogwarts, Lily Evans had become very important.  
Upon reaching the closed door of Professor McGonagall’s office Lily knocked softly, but with forte. Within moments McGonagall opened the door. Lily felt her shoulders sink and her frown deepen upon seeing her transfiguration teacher standing before her. This was a woman of power, and of strength. Her gaze was one that could turn even the hardest of delinquents to puddles at her feet, but now as she appraised Lily, her eyes were soft, and kind.  
“Miss Evans, please take a seat.” She said gently. Lily blinked at her professor, bewildered and then entered the office, sitting down in the chair that McGonagall had indicated to. While Lily sat herself down, McGonagall closed the door and made for the chair on the opposite side of her desk than the one Lily now occupied.  
“Miss Evans, I am not sure whether or not you are aware of the events that occurred last night in London?”  
“You mean the one with the muggle pub? And the death eaters?”  
Professor McGonagall nodded, her head bowed. Lily stared at the woman before her, waiting.  
“Miss Evans, we have just been notified that your parents were present at the scene.”  
Lily felt everything within her drop straight through the floor, her hands trembled uncontrollably and her lips followed suit, preventing her from speaking. Last night You Know Who’s death eaters had attacked a muggle pub in London, killing the thirty muggles that had been inside at the time. Frank Longbottom had read it aloud to them all from the Daily Prophet at breakfast that morning. Lily remembered the experience particularly well because when Frank had finished reading Dorcas Meadowes had shrieked “They do it for fun!” and after bursting into tears, ran from the great hall. The words ‘no survivors’ ran through Lily’s mind as she went over this memory. If her parents had been there…but no, there had to be some mistake. Her parents could not be dead; they would consider death to be beneath them.  
“I will take you into Hogsmeade where I will use sidelong apparation to take you home, someone will be sent to collect you in a few weeks.” Professor McGonagall said, jerking Lily from her thoughts.  
“W-why am I going home?” she asked.  
McGongall hesitating before answering her, “For your parents’ funeral, Lily.”  
She was speaking now with a softness in her voice beyond what McGonagall should have been capable of. Lily felt her insides drop even further, and then, she realised, they must have disappeared entirely because she felt completely empty.  
“Of course,” she said, in a small whisper, “I-I’ll just go and pack, then.”  
McGonagall nodded and Lily left her office.

***  
Petunia had been at work when she’d received the news. A police officer had walked right up to her till in Biba. Petunia smiled weakly at him and asked, “May I help you with something, sir?”  
She cast a glance over at Clara, who was staring at her in shock.  
“Petunia Evans?” the officer responded. Petunia’s smile faded and she nodded. The officer sighed and then he told her. Petunia couldn’t see anymore, and she couldn’t feel herself, it seemed like her legs had disappeared entirely because she was on the floor then. When she started to feel again her face was wet, and Clara’s hand was on her back, and her insides were on fire, she knew they were. She could hear herself screaming, but she didn’t realise it was her until Clara told her to calm down and then she stopped. She got the rest of the day off and Tilly took her to Kings Cross and helped her find a train that was going through Spinner’s End. Tilly also rode the train with her, she held her hand the whole way and made sure that she had a cab home. Once Petnuia got home, she realised that Tilly hadn’t come with her. Petunia sat in the front room until an owl came at night and left a letter that notified her Lily was being escorted to the house that night. After reading it, Petunia went up to her bedroom and didn’t leave it  
***  
Lily had been at the house for three days straight and had not seen Petunia once. Neighbors had come and gone, bringing food for the girls and offering their condolences. Lily had planned the funeral with Mrs. Pond, who had been Mrs. Evans best friend and something like an aunt to the two girls. Mrs. Pond had also gone to see the lawyer with Petunia, who was the one that had to go since she was the one who was of age. There were no relatives coming to the funeral, only friends and neighbors. Mrs. Evans had not spoken to a single member of her family since Petunia had been a baby, due to a horrible falling out that she had always refused to discuss with the girls. The only family of Mr. Evans that the sisters knew of was his parents who had both died when the girls had been young.  
On the third day of Lily being home Mrs. Evans’ book club came to visit. It was the day before the funeral. Mrs. Pond and the other women helped Lily go through her parents’ things all day. They each brought some food for Lily and Petunia to add to their already overflowing fridge. Lily thought it was unnecessary as both girls would be leaving days after the funeral; Lily had to get back to school, and Petunia still had a job and a flat in London which were waiting for her. While the women spoke to Lily in hushed tones, she couldn’t help but think of the black dress waiting for her up in her closet, and how her mother would have adored the modest way that it complimented Lily’s figure. She couldn’t help but think of James, who she wanted here with her. She had turned him down when he offered to come with her. Petunia would have been outraged. Lily felt alone without him though. She was always around people, people who had known and loved her parents, and people who loved her, but none of them knew her. That’s what she needed right now, someone who knew her, and who understood that she just needed to be held, and to not talk for a very long time. Lily needed James. She also couldn’t help but think of the sister who was the reason James wasn’t here now, the sister who had locked herself up in her room and left Lily to handle this mess all by herself.  
When the sun had gone down and Lily had began to yawn, Mrs. Pond and the other women left, each of them hugging Lily as they went out the door. Lily sighed, she wanted to clean up, knowing it would keep her busy, unfortunately all of the women who had been her mother’s friends had already done that for her. Lily looked around at the front room. It was half packed up already. It would have been left alone, to be a place to exchange hushed stories and grievances after the funeral the next day, but Lily insisted that they hold that time out in the garden. The garden that had been her father’s pride and joy. Lily tasted bile in her throat and decided that it was time to go to bed. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning off lights and closing doors as she went. Up the steps and in the narrow hallway, which seemed smaller every year, Lily paused with her hand on her door handle, casting a look over at Petunia’s room. She sighed, swallowing and stepped back from her own door. She knocked gently on Petunia’s door once, twice, three times.  
“Petunia? Please-I know you’re in there. People are asking where you’ve been. They say have courage, and I’m trying to. I’m right out here for you just let me in.” Lily’s voice cracked, tears slipping down her face for the first time since Professor McGonagall had spoken to her three days ago. “We only have each other, it’s just you and me. What are we going to do?”  
Lily slid to the ground, her hands covering her face, and her back against the closed door. “Do you want to build a snowman?” she whimpered.  
On the opposite side of the door Petunia sat with her arms gripping her middle tightly, shaking as she listened to her sister’s sobs and staring at her possessions: broken, and strewn throughout the room.

November 2, 1981

Petunia Dursely opened the front door of her house in Little Whinging with one arm clutching an assortment of milk bottles. She looked down at the front steps where she was going to place the bottles and let out an earth shattering scream. She paused, waiting to see if the cry had woken Dudley, but only silence answered her from the house behind. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for what lay before her. The baby in the basket, with the lightning scar upon his forehead began to shriek. Petunia stared at the child, frozen with shock and then the baby opened his eyes. When his bright, green eyes met her own brown ones she dropped the milk bottles to the ground.  
“Oh no, oh no.” she whispered, she bent down and picked up the letter which was wedged in the basket next to the infant and began to read. The baby continued to cry, but Petunia ignored him while she read. Her eyes and her throat burned and her heart seemed to be paralyzed at first, and then charged up, far too much, for it was beating at least three times what was healthy for a 23-year-old woman. Then she dropped the letter to the ground and scooped up the baby. She held him close to her body, rocking him slightly, and murmuring in what she hoped was a comforting manner. Soon the child’s cries subsided and he laid his head peacefully against Petunia’s shoulder.  
“Oh, Lily,” Petunia whispered, “no.”


End file.
